


the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own

by coffeecatsme



Series: you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars [2]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Good Parent Din Djarin, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, M/M, Protective Din Djarin, Psychological Trauma, Supervillain AU, TW: mentions of non consensual sex, TW: mentions of underage sex, Trauma, everyone needs a therapy after this, sequel to supervillain AU, tw: mentions of rape, vader is still a bastard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29371575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeecatsme/pseuds/coffeecatsme
Summary: Luke knows this is one thing he needs to do alone. Never mind the fact that he knows Vader’s ability to get under your skin, the last thing he needs is for Vader to ruin something for him that he loves so dearly.Luke visits Vader in prison. His doubts resurface, leading to him making a rash decision.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Series: you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157504
Comments: 37
Kudos: 162





	1. would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

**Author's Note:**

> TW: mentions of non consensual underage sex and rape  
> WARNING: mature language
> 
> I BLAME DISCORD FOR THIS AND NO ONE ELSE. I'M SERIOUS.
> 
> so. i was just going about my day studying this morning. and then i went on dinluke Discord to be like "what if i wrote a sequel to supervillain AU?" with a vague promise. and what we came up with. is just. pure ANGST. so. i apologize.
> 
> get your tissues ready y'all. this will be a bumpy ride. 
> 
> also, thanks to Adsdragonlover for betaing this. she's awesome. go check out some of her dinluke work (especially the Hanahaki fic) and give her some love. 
> 
> p.s. title of this fic is from You Are In Love, and title of this chapter is from Peace by Taylor Swift. i will die on the hill that all Taylor Swift songs are written for dinluke, even if i have to use a lyric from each song as a title.

It’s two months after Vader’s arrest that Luke visits him in prison for the first time.

Din doesn’t say much when Luke brings up the idea, just like whenever Luke’s past is brought up. He listens to Luke work through his thoughts, try to explain  _ why  _ he wants to visit Vader in the first place, as he cards his hand through Luke’s hair, fingers playing with the curls, grounding Luke into reality with his touch. Only when Luke is done does he nod and press a gentle kiss on Luke’s lips.

“Whatever you need, love.”

Din even offers to come with Luke, but Luke knows this is one thing he needs to do alone. Never mind the fact that he knows Vader’s ability to get under your skin, the  _ last  _ thing he needs is for Vader to ruin something for him that he loves so dearly.

Luke doesn’t know why he wants to visit Vader. He spent the last nine years of his life trying to bring him down, trying to send him to prison so he wouldn’t see him again—so he wouldn’t live under his shadow anymore. He should be happy that Vader is in prison now. He’s free— _ completely free _ —to live his life however he wants. And yet there’s this nagging thought at the back of his head that makes him feel like something is not right. Like something is incomplete and he needs to finish it, finish that chapter of his life so he can move on with Din and Grogu.

He hopes visiting Vader in prison will give him that closure. Seeing the man behind bars, in an orange prison outfit instead of his famed black suits, will finally make him realize he doesn’t have to be afraid of Vader anymore.

He adjusts the sleeves of his flannel, rolling them up at the last second, and moves to the visitation area of the prison. An ID is clipped to his t-shirt, showing his face and that he’s a special visitor with the FBI—the only way he was even able to get access to Vader—and Luke finds himself facing dozens of windows, some of them occupied, people talking to their loved ones.

Suddenly, he feels underdressed. It’s the first time he’s been in front of Vader in casual clothing for a long time. His blue flannel—that he stole from Din — is baggy, the black t-shirt underneath it has a band logo, and he’s in thrift store jeans instead of some designer clothing. Leaving his house, the casual outfit felt like a good idea, but he can imagine what Vader would think if he saw him like this. He can imagine Vader’s judging eyes—

_ No.  _ What Vader thinks doesn’t matter anymore. And Din  _ loves  _ it when Luke wears his flannels.

He stops playing with the sleeves and approaches the window number that the lady at the front desk gave him. His fingers are fidgety as he sits down but he stills them, waiting. The guards bring Vader out soon after, and when Luke’s eyes fall onto his father, he almost doesn’t recognize him.

Vader looks…  _ exhausted.  _ His shoulders are saggy, his lips are pale, and his cheeks are collapsed. There are large circles under his eyes and his hair is all over the place, falling on his forehead in curls instead of gelled back to perfection. Luke can only watch as the guards walk Vader up to his window and seat him down.

His eyes are still as piercing as ever when he looks up at Luke.

Luke expects him to be angry. He has no doubt that Vader has heard about his involvement with the FBI, that Luke was the one that ultimately led to his downfall. He expects yelling, frustration, and maybe even Vader standing up and leaving without a word. Instead, Vader’s face softens. He grabs the phone gently, and gestures at Luke.

Luke’s hands are shaky when he reaches up for the phone. “My son,” Vader’s voice comes through it, slightly distorted due to the device, and yet still…  _ loving.  _ “I was hoping you would visit me.” He offers Luke a genuine smile and puts a hand on the window.

Luke just stares at it. He almost wishes Vader  _ was  _ actually angry, that Vader was yelling, because  _ that  _ Vader he was prepared for.

He has no idea what to say now.

“You think I’m angry at you,” Vader says, as if reading his thoughts. Luke flinches and his hands tighten around the phone. He doesn’t argue. “I’ll be honest, I was angry for a while. How could my  _ son  _ betray me when I offered him the world? When I chose  _ him  _ as an heir to my empire? But I realized I was being selfish, Luke. I realized I never once asked you what you might’ve wanted.” Vader removes his hand from the window when he realizes Luke won’t lift his to meet him, and he sighs. “I think I owe you an apology.”

Luke stares at Vader for a few seconds, and then a snort escapes his lips. “You can’t be  _ serious,”  _ he chokes out, clutching the phone as if it’s a lifeline. “You apologize  _ now? _ ”

The blue of Vader’s eyes turns icy. “Luke,” he says, tone warning, but Luke realizes absentmindedly that it doesn’t have any effect on him anymore. Outside of his suits, Vader isn’t scary.

“You made me join your ‘empire’ when I was fourteen,” he whispers, blinking furiously so Vader doesn’t see his tears. “You made me  _ seduce people  _ when I was sixteen, father. You didn’t care what that did to me. Didn’t care if they hurt me. If they…” The words get stuck in Luke’s throat, but he pushes them out. “If they  _ raped  _ me.”

Vader flinches with the accusation, but only barely. His face softens. “I thought you would enjoy being a part of what I do,” he says, eyes wide and genuine, and Luke wants to fling the phone at the window. To break the damn thing so he can slam the phone against Vader’s face.

“I was a  _ kid,”  _ Luke says instead, teeth clenched. “I should’ve been in high school. Not out there fucking your targets.” This time, Vader does flinch visibly. His eyes harden just the slightest, the comforting mask slipping off of his face. He turns into the Vader Luke is familiar with for a split second before the mask is back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and maybe what Luke hates the most about it is that Vader sounds  _ genuine.  _ “I was thinking about myself and not what was good for you. Son, if I knew you were hurt in any way, I would’ve stopped.”

_ But you knew,  _ Luke thinks, except the words don’t come out because Vader looks  _ genuine,  _ and somehow Luke forgets every single moment he came home with cuts and bruises that Vader ignored. It seems impossible that Vader wouldn’t know, impossible that he would’ve missed so much, and yet…

“I love you, Luke,” Vader continues, leaning forward in his chair. The chains around his cuffs clink on the table, and Luke flinches. He blinks and sees the orange of his father’s jumpsuit again instead of the black jacket, his frizzled hair instead of the gelled back locks. His grip tightens around the phone. “Whatever you did, I don’t care. I love you.”  __

“Do you?” Luke shoots back, teeth clenched. He hates that his voice is shaky, he hates that he  _ can’t  _ keep it together under his father’s intense gaze. He lets the tears fill his eyes. “Because I never felt loved back in that house. I never felt like I had a father who loved me, a family who took care of me. I’m twenty eight, Father, and I have no fucking clue what a proper, healthy family is supposed to look like. I have no fucking clue about how to be a husband or a father because I never saw it, and every day I’m terrified that I’ll lose my family—”

Luke presses his lips together the moment the last words slip out of his mouth, but he’s not quick enough. Vader freezes across the glass, all pretense of love erased from his face. “ _ Family? _ ” he asks, voice icy. Luke looks up, only to come face to face with Vader’s familiar, harsh gaze, his joyless features, his tight lips.  _ This  _ is the Vader he knows.

He doesn’t say anything. Even if Vader threatened him with anything right now, he would never expose Grogu or Din.

“So you left my empire to build yourself a cute little family, huh? And how’s that going for you?”

_ Perfect,  _ Luke wants to say, except something in Vader’s voice makes him doubt himself. He knows that his life with Din and Grogu is everything he could’ve asked for. He knows Din loves him, and Din never hesitates to remind Luke of that whenever Luke’s doubts start to surface. Grogu calls him Papa now, just so he can differentiate between Luke and Din, and he curls in Luke’s lap while watching TV just as often as he does in Din’s. Din and Grogu love Luke, accept Luke, and it’s more than Luke thought he’d ever have. It’s perfect…

While it lasts. And it looks like Vader doubts it will.

“Do they know about your involvement in my business?” Vader asks, leaning back. Luke’s mouth tightens into a thin line.

“Yes.” And that’s all he offers. Surprise flickers in Vader’s eyes. He watches Luke curiously for a few seconds, but then he smirks.

“But they don’t know all that you had to do for me, do they?” Luke opens his mouth to shoot an answer back, to say that  _ yes,  _ Din knows  _ Luke,  _ and yet the answer gets stuck in his throat. Because truthfully, Din doesn’t know everything. Luke offered him truths every now and then, little tidbits of his past, and yet never once did he mention all the worst things he had to do. Never once did he go into the nitty gritty details, never exposed anything that might change Din’s mind about him.

“You know what will happen when they eventually find out?” Vader’s voice is quiet, almost… _soft._ Luke wants to tell him to stop but his throat is clogged. Vader blurs as tears fill his eyes, and he doesn’t even bother to wipe them away. “They _will_ leave, Luke. They’ll feel disgusted by you. They will _never_ be able to accept who you were in the past. Who you _still_ _are,_ deep down.” Vader presses his hand on the window again. “Not like I will. Look at us now. You betrayed me, you got me locked up in here, and I’m still talking to you. I still _love_ you, with all your imperfections. Son.” Vader leans in, and his wide blue eyes enter Luke’s vision. “I’m your family. I would never abandon you.”

Luke wishes he could say the same thing about Din. Except he thinks of everything he’s already confessed to Din, and everything he couldn’t get out into the open, and he knows the answer. He knows Din would leave if he found out. Din would hate Luke if he found out.

Luke doesn’t say anything else. He slams the phone back into place with shaky hands and stands up, knees wobbly. It’s a huge relief that he doesn’t fall down or stumble at all as he makes his way out of the building.

It’s a miracle he only breaks down once he’s in his car. And through the tears wetting his hands and shirt, through the ache in his chest and knot in his throat, he abruptly realizes that whatever he has with Din isn’t perfect after all. The cracks of imperfection have always been there, no matter how hard he’s tried to ignore them. Luke knows the whole thing is bound to shatter eventually, and Luke will have to go back to the way that it has  _ always _ been for him, alone, and broken.

He looks up at the steering wheel and realizes only then that staying with Din was never a choice for him. His only choice was whether he’d wait for Din to leave, or end things himself before he’s left behind.

His mind is made up before he even starts the car.


	2. to leave the warmest bed I've ever known

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of non-consensual and underage sex  
> Warning: mature language
> 
> i genuinely apologize for the angst. especially on valentine's day. but i'll be with my bf for most of today and tomorrow so i wanted to get this out there before that.
> 
> anyway, hope y'all enjoy this! and happy valentine's day everyone!
> 
> p.s. the title of this chapter is from tis the damn season by Taylor Swift

Luke realizes too late that one suitcase won’t be enough to hold everything he owns.

It’s stupid. He came to Din’s house with one suitcase. He should be able to fit his stuff in it, even if it’s a bit snug. And yet he completely underestimated the sheer amount of _extras_ he bought at Din’s house. Not only the clothes but the plushies, the decorations, the framed photographs, the knick knacks and memorabilia that he’s not willing to let go off…

There’s too much. Luke is standing over his suitcase, already filled to the brim, and there’s still a pile of stuff on the bed. Luke knows Din has extra suitcases in their— _Din’s_ —bedroom, yet he almost broke down trying to get his clothes out of there and he doesn’t think he can go back now. He knows he’ll stay if he does. He’ll stay, only for Din to leave him eventually, and he’ll be left behind with a broken heart and nothing to live for.

Leaving now is Luke’s only choice.

Furiously wiping his tears away, Luke moves next to the pile on his bed, going through it to figure out which ones he can’t live without. He discards pretty much all the remaining clothes—except any flannel—and the small, meaningless decorations. He gently wraps a t-shirt around a framed photo of him and Din, which makes it into the suitcase, and takes out a pair of jeans to place it. There is no way he can fit the weighted blanket Din gifted him, but he places is right next to the suitcase. Even if he has to wrap it around himself, he’s not leaving that behind.

He turns back to the pile and comes to a complete stop when he sees the frog plush. Shakily he reaches out for it, the soft fabric bunching up under his tight grip. The plush lost some of its structure, half because of Grogu who sometimes chooses to sleep with Luke’s frog instead of his own, and half due to Luke who still likes to have the plush with him even with Din. A tear slides down Luke’s cheek and falls onto the frog’s nose.

Luke still remembers how the nose poked out of the wrapping paper when Din and Grogu gifted it to him. How Grogu gave him a hug and a kiss that day. How Din leaned in close and promised Luke that he can wake Din up any time.

Just like a family.

Luke’s throat knots and he finds himself clutching the plush to his chest, face buried to its nose. Despite knowing he needs to get back to packing—he doesn’t want to think about how he’ll fit the damn plush—he can’t move, frozen in time, memories of Grogu and Din haunting him.

Din’s arms around him, wrapping him in a tight hug, letting Luke bury his face to his chest.

Grogu introducing him as Papa to anyone who asked, hand tightly holding Luke’s, a bright smile on his face.

Din waking him up with morning kisses peppered on his face, hand in his hair, fingers gently exploring the curls, the dips and crevices of Luke’s face, swiping over his eyes, nose, cheekbones, followed by Din’s lips.

Grogu climbing into his lap while playing Mario Kart, fingers wrapped around Luke’s large ones so he can teach him how to steer, and maybe not die every five seconds in Rainbow Road.

Din and Grogu forcing him into a game of Monopoly that ends with Luke bankrupt and Grogu the owner of every single expensive property.

Din and Grogu surprising him with pastries when they come home from work and school, Din claiming that the bakery is just on the way even though Luke knows it’s at least a short detour.

Din and Grogu hugging him when his insecurities bubble up, when he thinks he’s not worthy of their love, when he’s terrified of losing them. Grogu’s little finger grasping his t-shirt tightly as he looks up at Luke with wide eyes, whispering over and over again that he loved him. Din’s calloused fingers rubbing the nape of his neck, his arm tight around Luke’s waist, his love silent but clear from his eyes.

Luke can’t even picture a tomorrow that he doesn’t have those things, let alone a forever.

Lifting his head, he stares at the suitcase, the plush still in his arms. If he gets rid of some of his sweatshirts, he knows he can possibly fit the plush in there. He moves on the bed, legs tucked underneath him, and pulls a few sweatshirts from the corner of the suitcase. He’s just about to chuck all of them away, but his hands still around one of them. A grey one with a band logo. He knows instantly that it’s Din’s. He didn’t pay attention to it while putting everything in the suitcase—his vision was too blurry to notice—and he didn’t think Din’s clothes might’ve been mixed with some of his own in their closet.

He doesn’t even remember stealing the damn sweatshirt from Din.

His fingers curl around it and he places it back into the suitcase, placing the frog plush over it and hoping it can just deflate enough to fit once he closes the damn thing. He doubts he can fit anything else, so he closes the lid, pressing his weight over the suitcase to close the zipper.

He almost falls off of it when he hears the front door open. His eyes flicker to the clock in the room and notices that it’s almost four thirty. _Shit._

“Luke?” Din’s voice echoes in the house and Luke shuts his eyes, fingers curling around the edge of the suitcase. Luke hears Grogu’s heavy footsteps in the house, backpack probably already thrown in some corner. Grogu passes by Luke’s door and heads towards their bedroom without a glance at Luke, before he stops and turns around.

Grogu looks confused for a total of one second before his eyes light up. “Are we going on a trip, Papa?”

Luke hears Din’s footsteps trip up somewhere in the house, and he can barely hide the twitch in his lips. Din appears behind Grogu, one hand protectively landing over his son’s shoulder, eyes taking in Luke’s old bedroom. Luke looks away, but he doesn’t miss the fear that flashes in Din’s eyes.

“Grogu,” Din mumbles softly. “Why don’t you go to your room?”

And Grogu, little innocent Grogu, misunderstands the whole thing. “Dad, Papa packed his frog plush. Can I pack mine, too?” he asks, and Luke’s eyes flicker shut, but not before a tear escapes. He quickly wipes it away.

He for some reason expects Din to pretend there is actually a trip, but Din just shakes his head. “We’re not going on a trip.”

“But Papa is—”

“Grogu.” Din’s voice is still soft, but there’s an edge to it. From the corner of his eyes, Luke sees Grogu tense. “I’ll come get you in a bit, okay? Why don’t you start up your console?”

Grogu must’ve read that whatever is going on, it’s serious, because he doesn’t even call out Din for calling his Switch a console. Dejected he leaves, and Luke hears the bedroom door close behind him.

Din slips into the room and closes that door, too. Luke only looks up when something red enters his vision, and he watches Din gently place a heart-shaped box of chocolates in front of him, on the suitcase. The bed dips under Din’s weight, and he places his hands gently around Luke’s, loosening their hold around the suitcase.

“Luke.” His fingers trail up Luke’s arm and cups his cheek, turning Luke’s face to his. “What’s going on?” Luke expects to find anger in Din’s face, maybe even disappointment, but all he can see is fear. He can tell Din is trying to hide it, but for someone who knows him and who spent his entire life analyzing people’s microexpressions, it’s clear as day. Din is scared that Luke will leave.

Luke turns back around to the suitcase and with shaky hands, start zipping it up again. Din’s hand drops to Luke’s leg, but he doesn’t stop him. “Luke?” he tries again. “Talk to me, love.”

With the nickname, Luke’s fingers slip on the zipper. “Don’t call me that,” he chokes out. He didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, but with the tears building up in his throat and his trembling lips, his voice comes out dark and hoarse. Din’s hand stills on Luke’s leg, and Luke uses the opportunity to scramble out of the bed. He only briefly glances at Din but doesn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes.

“Luke, please.” Din follows him up, reaching to stop Luke’s hands when they grab the box of chocolates. “Let’s talk first. Whatever happened, I’m sure we can figure it out.” Din’s fingers slide between Luke’s, squeezing his hands. The touch is so tender, so _gentle_ despite Luke’s harsh words that Luke has to bite down on his lips to keep his tears at bay.

He pushes Din’s hands away and puts the box of chocolates aside. “There’s nothing to talk about.” It’s a miracle that his voice isn’t shaky. He grabs the handle of the suitcase and pulls it to the floor.

Din’s fingers wrap around his wrist again, more insistent this time. “What did Vader say to you?” he asks, and Luke freezes on the spot. Of course. _Of course,_ Din would remember that Luke was going to see his father today. He clenches his fists.

“Nothing that I didn’t already know.” He shakes his hand to escape Din’s grip, but he doesn’t let go. “Din.”

“He’s lying.”

_“Din._ ”

“Luke, you told me.” Din’s voice veers into desperate and Luke feels a shiver run down his spine. “Vader is manipulative. He’ll tell you whatever lie he needs to get you to believe him.” Din’s fingers travel up Luke’s arm, brushing the rolled-up sleeve of the flannel— _Din’s flannel_. Luke curses inside that he didn’t take it off—that he didn’t have the heart to discard it. “If he told you I didn’t love you, he’s wrong.”

Luke feels something snap in him. He spins around, pushing away Din’s touch roughly. “You don’t even know me.” Din blinks, surprised.

“That’s not true,” he whispers, and Luke wants to laugh. He clenches his teeth and looks away, hands grasping the suitcase tightly. The words tumble down his lips unintentionally.

“I framed someone for murder when I was sixteen.” Din stills in front of him, hands limp at his sides, and Luke isn’t even surprised. He looks away so he doesn’t see disgust swimming in Din’s kind, brown eyes. “I slipped a fucking sedative in their drink and let them take me home so I could put the files in there. Vader told me to do it and I didn’t even question. And that wasn’t even the last time. I kept doing it again and again and fucking _again_ because I thought I was doing some sort of a difference trying to bring Vader down when I was just hurting people. Ruining their lives because _my father_ decided they didn’t deserve to be happy.”

“You worked with the FBI,” Din reminds him softly and this time, Luke does laugh. He pulls at his hair.

“Not until I was nineteen. And even then, I just kept doing it. I didn’t ask FBI to hide me away. I _volunteered_ to be a double agent because that was my normal. My normal was fucking my way to information and deceit.” He presses his lips together, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. “I did it while we were together, too,” he whispers, voice small. “I slipped the sedatives into their drinks before they even opened their mouth because I knew I couldn’t bear to kiss them. I sedated them so I wouldn’t have to fuck them.” His voice cracks at the last two words and he has to duck his chin to hide his tears. He doesn’t bother wiping them away.

“You don’t have to pretend to love me anymore,” he whispers, gaze firmly locked on the floor. He doesn’t give Din a chance to answer before he turns around. He knows Din must hate him, but the last thing he needs is to hear those words from the love of his life. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He pulls the suitcase harshly over the carpet, ready to leave, but then strong fingers wrap around his wrist. Luke is so unprepared that when Din tugs him, he turns around inadvertently, and his eyes meet Din’s. He’s ready to shut his eyes, certain that there must be hate in them, but he comes to a stop. Din’s eyes look… _warm._ Maybe slightly frustrated, maybe still a bit upset, but ultimately warm and loving. Din moves his hands up and cups Luke’s cheeks, his calloused fingers soft on his skin, and leans down to capture Luke’s lips in his.

Luke feels his eyes flutter close. He almost melts into the kiss, almost reaches out to pull Din close, but he’s frozen. Vader’s words are still ringing in his ears, reminding him that this can’t last, _won’t_ last no matter how much he wants it to, and he pulls back instead.

“Don’t,” he whispers, moving his gaze to a spot above Din’s shoulder. Din’s grip around his neck tightens. He moves two fingers and gently turns Luke’s face, so Luke has no choice but to look at Din’s eyes.

“Luke, I love you,” Din says, voice unwavering. “I _love_ you. None of this is an act for me.” His thumbs brush Luke’s cheekbones, wiping away a few stray tears. “You think I don’t know you just because I don’t know what you did for Vader, but that doesn’t define you. I know who you are here, with me, with _Grogu,_ and I love that person.” Din leans in, resting his forehead against Luke, and for the first time Luke hears that his breaths are shaky. As if Din is holding himself together by only a thread. “Don’t leave,” Din pleads, voice quiet. “I want you to stay. Please.”

Luke almost says yes. Every cell in his body screams at him to do so. Stay with this little family he found, with Din, with Grogu, happy and cozy and filled with love. But despite how good it feels to be here, now, in Din’s arms, he knows he has to leave. He’s not worthy of Din, not worthy to be Grogu’s father, and he knows that if he stays, the day he comes back home to find them gone will be the death of him. 

He wraps his hands around Din’s wrists and pulls them away. “I want to leave,” he whispers, the lie sour on his tongue. He steps back but refuses to look at Din. “It’s my choice. Not Vader’s. I want to leave.” Din’s hands drop limply to his side, but this time, he doesn’t stop Luke when he moves to the door. Luke opens it with shaky hands, ready to move out, but freezes completely when he comes face to face with a familiar face. Luke isn’t even surprised Grogu didn’t listen to Din and left his room, but looking at his kid, something breaks inside him. Grogu looks up at him, eyes wide and tearful.

“Papa, are you leaving us?” His voice is small, and Luke has to look away. Even without the knot in his throat, he doubts he’d be able to come up with something to say.

Grogu’s little arms wrap around Luke’s legs. “We love you, Papa,” he says, and Luke has to wonder just how much of that conversation the kid heard. “We want you to stay. Please. We can play Mario Kart together. We can play Monopoly. You can even have my frog plush. Please.”

Luke shuts his eyes, but even that’s not enough to keep his tears at bay. He doesn’t even have the strength in him to push Grogu away, not when the kid’s holding onto him so desperately, fingers clinging to his pants, face pressed to his hip.

“Grogu,” Din whispers, and Luke feels two hands wrap around Grogu’s shoulders. “Come here.”

“But _Dad—”_

“Please, Grogu. Let’s give Luke some space, okay?” Arms loosen around Luke’s legs and Grogu move away, presumably into his father’s arms, and Luke feels like he can finally somewhat breathe. He opens his eyes but keeps them up, far away from Grogu, and instead focuses on Din.

Despite everything, Din’s expression is soft. He has his hands on Grogu’s shoulders, keeping his kid’s face pressed to his thigh, and Luke doesn’t know whether he should be grateful or upset that Din keeps both of them a few feet away from Luke.

“Luke,” Din whispers, and Luke can’t help meeting Din’s eyes. There isn’t even a hint of anger in Din’s voice. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. But our door will always be open for you. You’re family.” He offers Luke a small smile but doesn’t move. Even though Luke aches to feel Din’s touch one last time, feel his lips on his skin, it’s probably for the best. He doubts he’d be able to walk away if Din reached out now.

“You’ll find someone better,” he whispers, grip tight on the suitcase. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Grogu lift his head to look at him, eyes swimming with tears.

“And we will still love you,” Din says without even a beat of hesitation. Luke stares at Din, searching for a lie, but his face is as open and genuine as always.

He looks away, words knotted in his throat. Instead of saying anything he grabs his suitcase and walks away.

He only realizes he still has the keys to the house once he’s out of the building.


	3. still got scars on my back from your knife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of rape (like. one sentence. but just to be sure).
> 
> so. just to preface this. this gets ANGSTY. like. really angsty. just. thought you should know. be prepared.
> 
> also, if you want some fluff to counter the angst, you should read "How to Get Your Dad A Date" by double_ii. she is kind of the mastermind behind this supervillain AU sequel and the fic is amazing. so. go give her some love. 
> 
> p.s. title is from Bad Blood by Taylor Swift

There’re more than five hundred pictures of Din and Grogu on Luke’s phone.

In a way, it’s not surprising. Even before Vader’s arrest, Luke started taking pictures of his boyfriend and son around the house, documenting even the littlest moments. At first, it was an unconscious need to hold onto those happy moments, a way to immortalize them so he could be sure they didn’t only happen in his mind. He would look at the photos at the end of each day and smile, thumb lightly ghosting over Din’s smile or Grogu’s eyes, and let them swim in front of his eyes as he fell asleep.

After Vader was sent to prison and Din and Luke settled into a more regular routine, Luke’s just been unable to break the habit. Whenever he saw Grogu playing with his toys in front of the TV, whenever he heard Din humming to himself while cooking, whenever he found Din and Grogu cuddled on their bed and reading stories, he took out his phone and snapped a picture. The only thing that changed was that he stopped holding onto those pictures before going to bed. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Grogu’s forehead, tucked the blanket gently around the boy’s shoulders, before joining Din in bed and cuddling with him. He rarely even took his phone to bed with him, instead opting to hold onto the softness of Grogu’s hair under his fingertips, Din’s grounding embrace around his waist, and his gentle kisses on his hair.

Luke never really needed the pictures to remind himself of his reality since then. At least, not until  _ now.  _ Not until the pictures are the only thing of Din and Grogu he has left.

Tears start streaming down Luke’s face before he’s even through the first ten pictures. They’re older, from all the way back when he and Din first started dating. Only now that Luke is looking back at them that he realizes just how distant he’d been those first few weeks. Most of the pictures are taken from afar, around the corners or doors, as if Luke didn’t want to disturb the family time. As if he wasn’t part of the family.

Only slowly those pictures turn into more intimate ones. He sees Grogu with Play-Doh covering his hands, extending a janky piece of pizza to Luke. He sees Din cook with a smile on his face, Luke’s hand resting on the counter right next to Din’s. He sees Grogu looking up at him from the crook of his neck, his brown curls falling over his eyes, a bright smile on his face. He sees Din, lying on the bed next to him, a soft smile on his face and loving eyes directed at Luke. Luke never shows up in the pictures outside of a hand or an arm but he’s never too far. He’s  _ included  _ in the family, in a way.

Still, Luke comes to a complete stop the first time he sees himself in the pictures.

He instantly knows when it’s from. A few weeks ago, when Din found out that Luke has never been to the beach outside of whatever his missions required him, he took a day off work on a Wednesday, let Grogu skip school, and they drove over an hour to go to the Santa Monica pier. In Din’s Hawaiian shirt and newly bought flip flops, Luke felt underdressed, even though he knew the outfit was pretty common for the beach. He was fidgety the entire trip, looking out the window and trying to tell himself he didn’t have to dress up for anyone anymore, but once they arrived, all of Luke’s worries melted away.

Luke thought sand had magical properties because the moment he dug his bare feet in it, toes curling around the particles, warmth rushed through him and he felt his hands still. Din chuckled when Luke leaned down to run his fingers over the sand, marveling at the softness. “We have buckets,” he said when Luke finally stood up, letting sand fall down through his fingers. “Come on. I’ll show you how to make a sandcastle.”

And if Luke got tearful just a little bit looking at their janky sandcastle, Din didn’t complain. He just wrapped an arm around Luke and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, resting his head against Luke’s temple. He didn’t say anything, but Luke knew he understood. Din understood it was the first sandcastle Luke ever made, he understood that Luke never had a beach day as a child, he understood how much all the small, seemingly trivial moments meant to Luke.

That’s the photo he’s looking at now. Luke wrapped up in Din’s arms, Grogu sitting on the other side of him, their janky sandcastle in front of them. Luke barely remembers the girl taking the photo, but he does remember Din turning his head, pressing a kiss on Luke’s cheek. Luke presses a shaky thumb over his face, tracing the soft smile on his face. It’s hard to recall the unbridled happiness of that day. Hard to recall a time he looked at Din and was completely sure in their relationship.

He does recall Din telling him after their beach day that they could come back over the weekend if Luke wanted. Luke regrets not taking Din up on that offer. He never really thought they wouldn’t get the chance to have a beach trip again.

He thought they’d have a future together. How  _ stupid  _ he was.

The corner of his phone digs painfully into his palm, and only then Luke realizes just how tightly he’s been holding onto it. He lets go of the phone, picture still open, and reaches for his coffee cup just to have something to hold onto. The drink is cold by now, and distantly Luke wonders for how long he’s been sitting in the damn Starbucks. His eyes flicker outside and he realizes it’s dark now, streetlights shining through the windows, the sign of the motel he shakily dropped his suitcase at bright against the dark blue sky.

His chest tightens when he thinks about going back to his room. It felt too empty even in those thirty seconds he spent there putting his suitcase inside; he can’t imagine going back there now,  _ especially  _ to sleep. He can’t imagine lying in the bed alone, only a blanket to cover him up instead of Din’s warm embrace, only a pillow to press his face against instead of Din’s chest. His grip tightens around the coffee cup, spilling some of the liquid onto his hand, but he barely feels it.

He barely even sees the familiar face that walks through the door until she stands right next to his table. “Luke?”

The first thing Luke notices is the softness of her voice. It’s quiet and tear-strained, and yet there’s something familiar about it that Luke can’t place. Luke blinks to get rid of his tears and focuses on the woman. She almost looks like an angel, with a blurry halo of light behind her, soft curls falling on her shoulders and a white dress hugging her body.

Then, Luke places the face, and he thinks he might actually be seeing an angel because there’s no way she can be here.  _ “Mom?” _

Padme Amidala-Skywalker looks like she hasn’t aged a day. Luke recognizes her from the pictures in Vader’s house, a permanent smile on her face, young and carefree and beautiful. Luke can see the lines around Padme’s eyes and mouth, the few strands of grey in her hair, but he can’t imagine that she looks thirty years older than her pictures.

Padme sits down across from Luke, tears glistening in her eyes, and reaches forward to take Luke’s hand in hers. “I’ve been looking for you,” she whispers, voice shaky. “When I saw the news…” Padme’s voice trails off and she ducks her chin, quickly wiping away a tear. A few strands escape the clips in her hair and fall on her face. “My baby boy,” Padme chokes out, lifting his hand to cup Luke’s cheek, her touch warm and grounding. Luke would’ve leaned into it if he wasn’t completely frozen. He searches his mother’s face, wondering briefly whether he’s dreaming or not.

“He told me you were dead,” he whispers. Padme’s mouth twists and she drops her hand down from Luke’s cheek. Her other hand squeezes Luke’s.

“Anakin thought I was,” is the only explanation Padme can offer and Luke flinches, hearing his father’s real name. It’s been so long since he started thinking of him as Vader, separating him from the father figure Anakin should’ve been, that the name is almost foreign to him. “When I was pregnant with you and your sister, he wanted to recruit you to his crime network. I knew I had to take you away from his claws, so I had the doctor fake my death.” Padme falls silent, her grip on Luke’s hand looser now. She looks away from Luke. “By the time I woke up, he already whisked you away. I couldn’t let him get to Leia, too.”

Luke feels numb. His mind doesn’t even grasp the fact that his mother is  _ alive  _ and sitting across from him right now, let alone accept that he has a sister out there. His gaze meets Padme’s when she finally looks up, guilt swimming in her brown eyes, and a part of him wonders briefly whether his sister has those brown eyes, too. Whether Leia resembles Padme or Vader.

“You ran away?” Luke whispers, once he’s able to find his voice. Padme presses his lips into a thin line and offers Luke a curt nod. The next words tumble from Luke’s lips inadvertently. “And you didn’t come back for me?” Padme blinks, her hands curling away from Luke’s, and for a moment Luke regrets that he even asked it. He was just a baby when all of this happened—there was no way to know the choices Padme had to make, no way to know how much she tried to get to Luke. But the apology is stuck in his throat and instead, he waits for Padme’s answer.

“I had to protect Leia,” Padme whispers, eyes ducked down. “And I thought I was too late. I thought he already corrupted you.”

“Even as a child?”

“Luke.” Padme’s voice cracks. She reaches forward again, hand wrapping around Luke’s, but he just stays still. He doesn’t have it in him to even attempt to hold Padme’s hand. “If I’d known you were working against him, I would’ve come back sooner. I never wanted to leave you with him.” Her voice is shaky with unshed tears and Luke can feel that she’s genuine. She would’ve tried to save him had she known. She would’ve come if she believed Luke didn’t support Vader.

He doesn’t think that he was just fourteen when Vader first initiated him and it wasn’t even his choice. He doesn’t think that he cried himself to sleep every night for a year, praying for a way out. He doesn’t think that he’s been used and raped and beaten up for Vader and he dreamed of Padme swooping in and saving him every single day, even knowing she was dead.

But…she wasn’t, was she? All those years Luke dreamed of her, dreamed of her hands gently brushing his hair, dreamed of her fingers expertly taking care of his wounds, dreamed of her arms wrapped around him, whispering sweet nothings over and over again. He dreamed of the love and care he could’ve grown up with had Padme lived, had he been with her instead of Vader. And all this time, she was alive and well and… _ away.  _ All this time, she could’ve come and taken him away and didn’t.

Luke has to look away to hide his tears. “I understand,” he whispers. It’s impossible to tell it’s a lie, and Luke wonders briefly whether it even is. Whether he can fault Padme for leaving Vader when she could, for protecting her daughter from him. He’s not even surprised when he can’t find it in him to be mad at her. “I’m glad you and Leia got away.” He leans back, hands curled on his lap.  _ I would’ve probably just ruined your happiness anyway,  _ he thinks but doesn’t voice the words.

Because of his tears, Luke doesn’t even notice that his phone lights up. It’s an email notification, nothing important, but that’s not what catches Padme’s eyes. She pulls the phone closer to herself and her brows climb to her forehead.

“You’re seeing someone?”

Air leaves Luke’s lungs. He looks up at her mother and sees his phone in her hands, her eyes wide and… _ happy?  _ She puts the phone down and Luke sees it—Din, smiling up at him with Grogu sitting on his lap, reaching to the camera. A weight crushes Luke’s chest, and he can barely breathe to get the next words out. “Not anymore.” Luke shakily grabs his phone to flip the screen down.

Padme stops him. “Why?” Luke stares at her hand on his wrist, her touch soft. He stares at the phone, at Din’s smiling face, at his son’s wide grin, and he realizes he doesn’t have the strength to lie.

“Because I don’t know how to make them happy.” He can’t look away from his phone. With shaky hands he opens it up, the picture from the beach shining bright in the dim café. “All I know about family is Vader. I don’t know how to love them. I don’t know how to trust them. They deserve better.”

Padme doesn’t say anything for a while, but Luke can feel her eyes on him. She then gently takes the phone from him and holds his hands. “Is that what Anakin told you?”

Luke stills, eyes snapping up to his mother. He knows Padme won’t believe him if he says no. Instead, he shakes his head. “It wasn’t anything I didn’t know already.” He tries to look away, but Padme cups his cheek again. Her brown eyes, for once, are fierce. 

“It was something you feared,” she corrects him. Luke doesn’t even get the chance to argue before she continues. “Luke, Anakin feeds on people’s fears. He’s incredibly good at reading and using them to isolate people, to make them believe they’re all alone in the world.” She squeezes Luke’s hand tightly. “Whatever he said about your relationship, it’s not true.”

Luke stares at her mother’s hands and gulps. It’s hard to quash the hope blossoming in his chest. “How do you know?” He looks up to find a heartbroken smile on her face.

“Because he did the same thing to me.” She doesn’t pull her hands back but her eyes are focused somewhere above Luke’s shoulder. “I stayed with him for so long because he made me believe only he could love me. If I left him, I wouldn’t have anyone in the world. And I stayed because even the horrific life I had in that house was better than being all alone.” She looks back at Luke, silent tears streaming from her eyes. “Only when I got pregnant that I got the strength to reach out. I called old family friends. I expected nothing from them, but they all came to my aid. They showed me that all of Anakin’s words were nothing but lies built on fear.” Padme searches Luke’s face before she reaches to his phone. She gently tucks it in his fingers.

“Tell me what you see in that photo, Luke. Forget about Anakin. Forget about your past. Just focus on it.” She cups the back of Luke’s hands and offers him a small smile.

Luke thinks it’s ridiculous, but his eyes still fall on the photo. “We were at the beach. Din, Grogu, and I,” he whispers, glancing at Padme. He expects her to laugh, but she just gestures at him to continue. “The ocean was behind us. We went in right before this. Grogu taught me how to ride the waves when he figured out I didn’t know how. I think I swallowed my weight in water trying that.” A smile finds its way on Luke’s face. “Din then pulled me back to the beach to build a sandcastle. I didn’t know how, and I think I destroyed about five of them before we put this one together, but he didn’t mind it. He even took my hands to teach me how to properly set up the buckets, how to mix the water in with the sand, how to carefully build it up. I thought it looked ugly but I think… He was proud. Of me. That I managed to do it for my first time.” Luke’s shoulders relax and for once, he doesn’t have to blink his tears away to focus on the picture. He doesn’t even have to hold the phone tightly to stop it from shaking. “He was hugging me when this girl offered to take our photo. We have it printed out at home. It’s on our fridge…” His voice trails off when his words finally catch up to him. A knot lodges in his throat.

“It used to be on our fridge,” he corrects himself, voice lower and shakier again. “He might’ve put it away.”

“Do you think he would?” Luke looks up at Padme, his phone loose in his hands. He slowly shakes his head, unsure at first, but then he realizes that he can’t imagine Din would put it away. He can’t imagine Din would rejoice that Luke left, that he would be relieved he didn’t have to take care of him anymore. Luke thinks of Din now, and all he can think of is how heartbroken Din must be, holding back his tears for Grogu’s sake, clutching Luke’s pillow on the bed, even the multiple blankets on him not enough to block the cold.

Luke looks back at the photo, he looks at the soft expression on Din’s face, and he thinks Din loves him. Not because Luke is perfect. Not because he’s the best boyfriend or the best father. Not because Luke is worthy of it. Din loves Luke not despite all his pitfalls, but for all his good. It’s hard for Luke to wrap his mind around it, how Din can still care about him knowing  _ everything,  _ but looking at the picture Luke can’t bring himself to doubt that love.

“I think he loves me,” he whispers, more to himself than Padme. Fresh tears slide down his cheeks and fall onto his hands. “I think he would want me to stay.” He feels more than sees the smile on Padme’s face.

“I think he would, too,” Padme agrees, squeezing Luke’s hand. Luke looks up at her. His decision is already made.

“Mom. Can you drive me home?”


	4. come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am. sincerely sorry for all the angst in this series. lmao. i just don't know why i keep hurting my babies. just. ugh.
> 
> p.s. title is from Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift

Luke can’t knock on the door.

It’s been over a minute, and he can barely raise his hand to ring the bell, let alone _knock._ His heart is hammering against his chest, his hands are clammy, and he thinks he would’ve fainted already if it wasn’t for Padme’s grip on his arm.

He still can’t _knock on the damn door._

“Luke,” Padme whispers, moving a hand up Luke’s arm. “They’ll accept you back.” Luke’s eyes flicker shut and he nods curtly, even though a part of him fully expects Din to shut the door on his face. “They love you.” Luke nods again, remembering Din’s words, remembering Din’s _acceptance_ even when he was walking away. Still, it’s possible that Din began to hate him after Luke left, after Luke dismissed _his son,_ after he chose to believe _Vader_ over Din. And one thing Luke knows is that if the door opens right now and Din’s brown eyes are cold, it’ll permanently break him.

“And you love them, too,” Padme reminds him, as if Luke _needs_ a reminder. “Luke, you deserve to be with them. You deserve the happiness they give you.”

“Mom.” Luke’s voice is soft, but it does stop Padme. He clenches his fists and stares at the door. “What if they hate me for leaving?”

“Do you think they will?” Luke instinctively opens his mouth to say yes, but then he stops. Deep down, in his gut, he knows the answer is no. He knows Din loves him, and despite the mess Luke brought into his life, Din never left his side. He learned that Luke was the _son_ of a crime boss and he listened to Luke and trusted him, and Luke doubts Din would ever shut the door to his face, even if Luke might’ve broken his heart.

Luke gulps again and lifts a shaky hand, pressing it quickly on the doorbell. There’s a moment of excruciating silence as he waits, biting the inside of his cheek—he’s pretty sure he tastes blood—before he hears the door unlock. Luke holds his breath.

Din looks horrible.

That’s Luke’s first thought when his eyes meet Din’s. He knows he must look a sight as well, with blood-red puffy eyes and wet cheeks, but Din has always been this calm, composed rock in Luke’s life and to see him like this, cheeks collapsed, eyes red, hair a curly mess and shoulders drawn in, all because of _Luke…_

Luke’s eyes flicker shut, and for a moment, he’s sure Din will close the door. He ruined this. He ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him, hurt the two people he loved the most, and it’s all his fault. He opens his mouth, an apology at the tip of his tongue, but Din is faster.

“Luke.” His voice his soft, much softer than Luke expected, so filled with love and _relief_ that a shiver runs down Luke’s spine. Before he even opens his eyes, he feels Din’s hands on his waist, pulling him close, and then two arms wrap around him.

Luke melts into the strong, familiar embrace, tears easily spilling down his cheeks. “ _Luke_ ,” Din murmurs again, his voice choked with tears, his lips pressing light kisses on Luke’s hair, holding him so tightly as if his grip alone can chase away all of Luke’s worries. Wrapped in Din’s warmth, Luke feels stupid, so _fucking stupid_ that he left, that he thought Din didn’t love him enough, that he wasn’t good enough for Din because this feels so _right and true_ and Luke can’t imagine spending even a _day_ without this, let alone an entire future.

A choked sob escapes Luke’s lips. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, curling his hands around Din’s t-shirt. Din’s arms tighten around Luke. “I thought you’d leave me.”

“I know, love,” Din says, and the nickname warms Luke’s insides. He bites down on his lips and moves his head so he can look up at Din’s eyes, his chin still pressed against Din’s chest. Din moves one hand to cup his cheek and presses a kiss on his forehead.

“Din.” The name is shaky on Luke’s lips, but Din doesn’t seem to mind. His lips curl into a smile, his eyes so warm and caring, and Luke slowly feels the knot in his throat dissolve. He moves his hand to Din’s shoulder and holds him tightly. “I don’t want to be scared of loving you.”

A part of Luke, innocent and broken and utterly terrified of being alone in the world, thinks Din will let him go. Instead, Din cups his cheeks, eyes as warm as ever, and presses a kiss on Luke’s lips this time. Luke’s eyes flutter close and he leans in, basking in Din’s embrace, basking in the softness of the kiss, so undemanding, so _sweet,_ and Luke thinks he can stay there forever.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Din promises when he pulls back, moving his fingers through Luke’s hair, gently brushing the curls away from Luke’s face. “How does that sound to you?”

Luke can only nod before he cuddles back into Din’s arms, his head tucked under Din’s chin, and closes his eyes. Din presses a kiss to his hair and holds him close.

“I love you, Luke,” he murmurs, and Luke feels fresh tears fill his eyes. His heart stutters in his chest, even as the first thing he feels is fear twisting his gut. He bites down on his lower lip.

“Even if I don’t believe it now?” he says, voice thin and small. Din’s fingers card through his hair.

“No matter what.”

* * *

Din pulls Luke inside only when Luke seems to have calmed down enough to at least leave Din’s embrace, and settles him down on the bed inside the spare room. Padme stays in the living room, giving Din and Luke some privacy, and Luke is glad at least for a moment that Din doesn’t question her presence.

He still doesn’t miss the glare Din sends Padme’s way when Luke explains who Padme is and how she’s alive. Luke doesn’t know what to make of it, but he’s too wrapped up in his own head to even ask. 

The house is…kind of a mess, with dishes scattered on the counter, pillows thrown around in the living room, tissues all over the coffee table. Luke has to look away when he sees that, guilt churning in his stomach, but Din just takes his face in his hands and kisses him. “We’ll be okay,” he promises, searching Luke’s face. Only thing Luke can respond with is a nod before Din moves back and into the kitchen.

He comes back with two cups of tea. Before Luke even looks at his mug, he knows and it’s just how he likes it. Din presses the mug in Luke’s hands, his fingers brushing their back, before moves to sit on the bedside table. His knees brush Luke’s every now and then, and even that little touch grounds Luke into reality.

The reality where Din loves him, where Grogu sees him as a father, where Luke doesn’t have to be scared of losing their little family at the drop of a hat. Still, glancing up at Din’s warm, brown eyes, he knows that the man at least deserves an explanation.

He gulps and looks down at the mug in his hands. “Vader told me you’d leave,” he whispers, voice quiet. From the corner of his eyes, Luke thinks he sees Din’s lips press into a tight line. Din’s hand drops on Luke’s knee and he squeezes, but doesn’t interrupt. “If you knew who I used to be. He said you’d hate me for it, that he was the only one who could love me with all my flaws.” Luke gulps, blinking to push away his tears, and dares to glance up at Din. “He knew everything I was afraid of, and he knew what to say to make me believe him.” Luke stops, eyes focused on Din, hands trembling around his mug. “I didn’t know what I would do if you left me. And the only alternative was leaving myself. I never… I didn’t want to hurt you.” Luke bites the inside of his cheek and looked away. “You or Grogu. I thought you’d be better off without me.” He pointedly doesn’t turn to Din, doesn’t want to see even a hint of agreement flicker in Din’s eyes. At least until he feels two fingers on his chin. Din guides his head so they’re eye to eye, and offers him a bittersweet smile.

“We’re better off wherever you are,” he murmurs, fingers trailing up Luke’s cheek and pushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. Luke searches his face, searches for even a hint of a lie, but there is none. He ducks his chin, shame curling in his gut. He wonders whether he’ll ever hear Din loves him and won’t question it. He wonders whether he’ll ever be able to smile without worry at the words, whether he’ll have butterflies in his stomach instead of a sick twist.

“Din, I’m fucked up,” he whispers, words tumbling down his lips unintentionally. Din’s fingers tighten around his shoulder. “You tell me you love me and I think you’re lying. I have to search your face because I can’t believe it otherwise. And I know you’re honest, I know you love me but— _fuck, I just—_ I don’t understand why. And I hate it. I hate doubting you and doubting _us_ and I don’t… I don’t know how to make it go away.” Luke shuts his eyes, forcing himself to keep his sobs at bay, to not break down for what feels like the hundredth time that day. He feels the bed dip next to him, and then he feels a hand gently uncurl his iron grip around his mug to put it away. Then, Din’s arms wrap around him.

“You’re not fucked up, Luke,” Din whispers, one hand on Luke’s cheek so that he can guide Luke’s head to the crook of his neck. “You spent over twenty years with a man who made you believe only he could love you. I can’t change that overnight, even if I smother you with my love.” Din chuckles and his voice reverberates inside Luke. He finds himself snuggling closer to Din’s chest, eyes closed, ear pressed right over his heart so he can hear Din’s heartbeat. “But I’ll be here with you every step of the way. We’ll get you whatever you need.” Din presses a soft kiss on Luke’s hair, gently massaging Luke’s scalp with his fingers.

“And I’ll tell you I love you every single day until you believe it,” Din continues, “and I’ll keep telling you even after that because it’s the truth. I _love_ you, Luke.” Din pulls back, just enough to cup Luke’s cheeks. “No strings attached. No expectations. No conditions or anything. I love _you.”_ Din gently wipes his tears away and pulls him close, his lips tender against Luke’s, one hand dipped into Luke’s hair while the other wraps around his shoulders and Luke melts, melts, _melts_ into the kiss, holding Din close. He only pulls back when he needs air but he doesn’t let Din go far, instead wrapping himself around Din again. Din let him, silently rubbing Luke’s back, and pulls both of them over the bed when he feels Luke slowly relax in his embrace, Luke’s exhaustion catching up to him. Luke immediately cuddles up to Din’s chest once the blanket is wrapped around them.

“I’ve been looking into resources,” Din whispers to his hair, voice so quiet that Luke barely hears. “For therapy. I called up some places and took their numbers.” Din falls silent briefly. “And I have a therapist myself. She said we can go together if you want to, but if you want someone else entirely, I get that as well. Just… Whatever you need, Luke.”

Luke pulls back just enough so he can look at Din’s face. The implication of Din’s words isn’t lost to him. “You knew I would be back?” he whispers, and a soft smile pulls Din’s lips. He captures Luke’s lips in another smile.

“I was hopeful,” he murmurs. “But even if you didn’t, I wanted to give you the resources. I was planning on texting you before you came.” Din rubs his thumb on Luke’s cheekbone, catching the final stray tears, and then presses a kiss on Luke’s forehead. “We can talk about all of that tomorrow, love. Now sleep.”

Luke searches Din’s face and nods. His eyes drift close easily, wrapped around in Din’s embrace, and sleep claims him soon after that.

Despite everything, he’s sure he’ll wake up to Din’s arms around him.


	5. you'll find the real thing instead (he'll patch up your tapestry that I shred)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: very small mention of rape
> 
> so. i legitimately did not think this chapter was that angsty. like. i KNEW it was. but i was feeling pretty furious and shitty when i wrote this, so compared to that it seemed FINE. and then i reread it. and i'm. CRYING. 
> 
> i am so sorry for this. i genuinely am.
> 
> p.s. title is from Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift. (that fucking BRIDGE kills me every time oh my GOD)

Over the years, Luke has gotten used to waking up to yelling.

Vader wasn’t the type of person to keep his voice down, for anyone. Whether it was the middle of the night, midday, or even in the middle of _dinner,_ if he was angry at someone, Luke could hear him yell from across the house. Having to keep his door at night meant that there was nothing to filter Vader’s voice, and more often than not Luke jumped out of a nightmare, huddling under the blanket and staying as still as possible until Vader calmed down.

Every now and then Vader checked up on Luke in the middle of his yells, and the few times Luke couldn’t pretend to sleep, he got the brunt end of the stick.

It’s been a while since he woke up from his sleep with yells, but when loud voices filter through the closed door, Luke’s eyes flicker open and he finds himself hugging the blanket closer. For a moment, he thinks he’s back at Vader’s place and fear overtakes him, until his eyes get used to the dark and fall onto the bedside table, a picture of him and Din bright under the moonlight.

Luke lets out a shuddered breath and closes his eyes, trying to calm his thundering heart. He thinks he must’ve misheard the yelling—he doesn’t remember ever hearing Din raise his voice. It’s probably a nightmare and Luke should really go back to sleep—

“You just _left him there?”_

Luke comes to a complete stop when the voice, familiar and yet foreign at the same time, comes through the door again. He turns around and realizes that Din’s not with him anymore. For a moment, he thinks that maybe Din left—maybe, despite his words, he didn’t actually—

“He was a _kid!”_

But no, Luke is pretty sure that voice is Din’s. It feels impossible almost, considering Din is pretty much _yelling_ at this point and Luke didn’t even think he was capable of it, but he’d recognize Din’s voice anywhere. It’s Din out there, yelling at _someone,_ and Luke can’t even imagine what must’ve happened to get him so riled up. 

Slowly, Luke shuffles out the bed, feet cold on the floor, ready to leave the bedroom and make sure Din is okay. But the moment he cracks the door open, Din’s words root him to the spot.

“Luke was a _teenager_ when Vader recruited him. He didn’t fucking _know_ what that even _meant.”_

Luke’s fingers slip off of the door handle and he stands there, eyes wide, leaning against the wall. Now that the door is open he can hear a softer female voice—Padme, he recognizes faintly.

“You don’t know what it was like at his house, Din,” Padme says. Her voice is quiet and Luke thinks she might be crying, but it’s hard to tell. “He knows how to get in your head—”

“Like how he got into Luke’s head?” Din hisses, cutting Padme’s words. His voice is venomous and lack any type of sympathy, and Luke thinks it’s the first time he’s heard Din this angry.

Din didn’t yell him when he discovered Luke was working for Vader. Din didn’t yell when Luke up and left with a botched excuse. Din didn’t even _yell_ when Luke showed up and instead accepted him with open arms. The man out there right now doesn’t sound like Din at all.

“Luke couldn’t even close his door when he first came to live with me. He _begged_ me not to because he was terrified I would be offended or angry because _that’s_ what Vader taught him. He searched his room _every single day_ to see if I looked through his stuff because that was what he was conditioned to do. And you _think_ he chose all of that because he _stayed with Vader_?” Din’s voice cracks at the last word and Luke winces, pressing a hand on the wall to keep himself steady.

He had no idea Din noticed that.

He remembers, way back when, Din gently shutting his door every morning. Multiple times Luke woke up to find the door shut and had a mini heart attack until he ripped it open, eyes flickering in the living room to see if Din was there, to see if Din would yell at him for closing the door. It was only a few days later he realized that Din was closing the door.

Luke remembers asking him to keep it open. He thought Din didn’t think much about it.

“I wanted to come back for him.” Padme’s voice takes Luke out of his thoughts. “I would’ve never left him but Vader already got to him and I couldn’t let him get to Leia too. Din, please, you should know I never meant to leave without him.” Her voice is so shaky that Luke can imagine her, tears shining in her eyes, hands shaky, and for a moment he thinks Din will agree with her. Padme had to save Leia, plain and simple. She had to get Luke’s sister out of there, get her to safety before Vader ruined another life.

Instead, Din snorts. “He was your _son,”_ he spits out, voice quieter now, but nevertheless venomous. A shiver runs down Luke’s spine. “You don’t leave family behind.”

“If you were in my position—”

“I _was_ in your position!” Din’s voice rises before he cuts off, as if he’s trying to keep himself together, and continues after a brief silence. “I found out about Luke’s connection to Vader through the _news._ I had no way of knowing he was working with the FBI, no way of knowing whether the news was right. I have a _son”—_ Din’s voice cracks again, and Luke has to close his eyes to push back his tears—"and I stayed for Luke. I risked Grogu’s life because I couldn’t leave Luke behind. You have _no excuse_ leaving a _child_ with Vader.”

“Din, please…” Padme whispers, but it’s as if her words fall on deaf ears. Din, voice hoarser now, continues, and Luke realizes with a start that he’s probably _crying._

“You know he still has nightmares about Vader?” Din says, voice so quiet that Luke has to lean into the door to hear it. He presses his forehead to the wall, trying to let the cold ground him, hands shakily grasping the solid surface. “Nightmares about what Vader put him through? Forcing him to join his fucking _crime network_ at the age of fourteen? Getting _raped and abused and used?_ ”

Tears start flowing down Luke’s cheeks. The words cut him like a sharp knife.

“You know he cried himself to sleep every night for _years_ hoping for an escape? And he had to keep his voice down because Vader didn’t let him close the door and he would’ve _beaten_ Luke for such a weakness? He still doesn’t let himself cry out in the open, still _muffles his cries_ with a pillow because it’s so _ingrained_ in him that he has to hide his pain. And you—Fuck, you were alive _this entire time.”_ Din stops and Luke imagines him, wiping away his tears, biting his cheek to keep his sobs at bay. “You could’ve _prevented_ all of that.” Din’s voice trails off and he says something else, but it’s too low for Luke to hear.

The living room is silent for a few moments, and Luke for a moment thinks Din and Padme left. It’s irrational and he knows it—if anything, Din’s words right now prove just how much he cares about Luke and Luke should know he _won’t_ leave at the drop of a hat, but he can’t help it. He’s just about to open the door when Padme’s soft voice filters in.

“I had no idea it was so hard for him.” It’s thin, small, and guilt-ridden, yet Din’s only response is a harsh laugh.

“He was a child at the hands of a manipulative criminal. What did you _expect?”_ Din laughs again and Luke hates that sound, hates that it sounds so _humorless_ and _rough,_ nothing like the soft chuckles he’s so used to hearing from his boyfriend. “You know he still doesn’t believe that I love him? He believes Vader so fucking _easily_ when Vader manipulates him with his lies, yet he can’t _believe_ me when I tell him that I love him because he thinks he’s not worthy. Fuck, he’s the _love of my life_ and I see doubt flicker in his gaze whenever I tell him that, and it _kills_ me.”

Din’s words wash over Luke like a warm shower. His eyes flicker open and he stares at the wall in the dark. _The love of my life…_ He thinks he must’ve imagined those words. Heard them wrong. There’s _no way…_ Even if Din loves him, there’s no way he thinks Luke is the love of his life. There’s no way he thinks Luke is his _future._

Luke knows Din loves him. Deep down, somewhere inside, he knows it. Yet he never _imagined…_

“I tell him I love him every day,” Din continues, voice so shaky now that Luke can tell he can’t hold back his tears anymore. “Every single fucking _day,_ over and over again I tell him I love him, I watch him search my face to see if I’m honest before he smiles, and it _kills me_ that he doesn’t believe me. But I tell him anyway. I’ll keep telling him because it’s the damn _truth_ and if I have to scream it to the entire world for him to believe I’ll do it, but… Fuck, I shouldn’t _have to._ ” Din stops, his words barely loud enough for Luke to hear now. “You were his _mother._ How could you _leave him?”_

The question is so honest, so _heartfelt_ and _desperate_ that Luke feels something clog up his throat. A part of him doesn’t want to hear the answer because he knows he won’t like it, because he knows it’ll only confirm his suspicions—that Padme didn’t think he was important enough to save. He shuts his eyes, turning away from the door, but Padme’s words stop him.

“There’s no excuse.” Luke’s eyes flicker to the door, heart skipping a beat. “You’re right. There’s no excuse. He’s my son and I failed him.”

The first few tears stream down Luke’s cheeks.

“Thank you,” Padme continues, voice still hoarse but louder now. “For staying with my son. He deserves the world, and I couldn’t give it to him, but you clearly already did.”

Din doesn’t say anything for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is rough. “What if I’m not enough?” 

Luke feels something break inside him. He turns back to the door, fingers wrapping around the handle, and he steps out before he changes his mind. Two sets of eyes turn to him, both swimming with tears, but Luke only looks at Din.

“You’re enough.” Luke’s voice is quiet and choked with tears, but it’s firm. He clenches his fists and takes a step closer to his boyfriend. “Don’t think you’re not. Please, Din. You are… You mean the world to me. You have to know that.”

Din watches him for a few seconds, and then his shoulders slump. In two steps he’s in front of Luke and his arms wrap around Luke’s shoulders, tucking him under his chin, shaky fingers grasping Luke’s t-shirt. “Luke,” Din murmurs so reverently that Luke has to shut his eyes as fresh tears fill them and instead buries his face to the crook of Din’s shoulder.

“Tell me you know you’re enough,” Luke says desperately. “Please.” He doesn’t think he can take it if Din believes he’s not because of Luke, because Luke can’t seem to get out of his own head and believe him.

Din’s arms tighten around him. “I’m enough,” he murmurs, his breath warm against Luke’s hair, and presses a light kiss on Luke’s curls. “Luke. Tell me you believe that I love you.”

His voice is undemanding, and Luke knows he doesn’t say it to force Luke into believing it. Luke shuts his eyes and gulps. “You love me.”

It sounds too much like a lie, but it doesn’t look like Din minds it. He smiles against Luke’s hair and presses another kiss there.

He doesn’t answer, but at that moment, he doesn’t need to. At that moment, the hug is enough.


End file.
